Black Cloaks

Two - Chess

        Why the others insisted on crying, Jade would never understand. She knew it wouldn't get them anywhere, other than dead sooner rather than later. After they had been dumped through the square of locked freedom on the high ceiling, they had huddled in the far corner.

        She could feel their eyes on her all the time but she simply ignored them. All they would see is a visibly tall, but hunched over girl with tangled black hair. The shadows clutched at her, hiding her face from their sight.  That's all they needed to see, it's not like they would all be together for very long.

        Jade's eyes had become used to the nothingness and her could see through the dark. She could see the fear in their wide eyes. The way their hands shook as they wiped the tears from their faces. She could see how clean they looked, their clothes fresh and their brushed hair. However, as she turned away from their searching eyes, she could see that it wouldn't stay that way.

        The shaking of the hands would stay, but not from fear. From the pain of starvation and all the possible illnesses. Eventually the tears would stop too. There would be none left to cry. No energy to create them. Their hair would tangle and the colour of the locks would become a memory in the mist while looking for food on the muddy floor. They would deteriorate before Jade's eyes and she could do nothing but watch.

 

 

Black Cloak P.O.V

 

        'Good luck getting out of that!' He thought to himself, as he did every time a fresh batch of innocents were brought to him. It annoyed him however, that the tall, black haired girl would possibly go free within a few months.

        "How does she keep surviving?" he asked aloud to no-one in particular. There was no-one there to hear him.  But it did puzzle him.  Not many others since the beginning had survived and it just taxed his time to keep making plans for them. 

        He thought it was quite clever really. How they had positioned their little dungeon game. It may have taken a while to build and sustain, but when your children go missing, you wouldn't expect them to be in an underground dungeon in the middle of a vast, undisturbed forest. It had been his idea in the first place, he had never felt more proud of himself.

        His face twisted into a smirk as he chuckled quietly to himself. He re-adjusted his soft, black hood to cover his scarred face. He began to whistle as he walked, the sound filtering through the canopy of trees.

        It took him a while to walk back to the abandoned building in which he and the others stayed. They would never dare say it to his face, but he knew they wanted him back quickly. He refused to be rushed however, and his stubbornness had led him to walk slowly, taking in the crystal clear sky and the tall, majestic trees towering above him.

        He hated it.

        When he finally got back, he walked through the already unlocked door and immediately heard arguing.

        "Why not? It would make it funner!"

        "'Funner' is not a word dwarf."

        "Don't call me dwarf!"

        "Well that's what you are!"

        He roughly pushed open the door to the viewing room, as he had named it. He stood tall, looking down on the other two men. They quieted immediately.

        "What are you doing? I could hear you from outside, do you want someone to find us?" he said through gritted teeth.

        "No sir, we-I had an idea sir." The small man stepped forward and bowed his head.

        "What?" he retorted impatiently, he wanted to watch the show.

        "I think we should give them some time to talk to each other sir, I-" the dwarf began before he was swept from the floor by his neck and pushed hard against the wall.

        "You're not going soft, are you, dwarf?" The scarred man hissed as he choked the smaller man.

        "N-no sir!" he stuttered, "I just thought if you let them get to know each other, it will be more fun to watch them when they die." He breathed deeply and rubbed his neck as he was released.

        The scarred man walked over to the other man who was arguing with the dwarf.

        "Why did you think it was a bad idea?" he almost whispered and the other man swallowed nervously.

        "It's ridiculous, sir! You didn't hear what else he was-"

        Bored already with his explanations, the man in black pulled out a shining, silver pistol from his pocket and shot the other man through the chest. He watched him fall to the ground and felt the warm blood splatter over his face. He smiled.

        He turned around to the dwarf.

        "Fair enough. We will try your idea," he said calmly.

        The small man jumped slightly. "D-do you ever t-think we are going to f-far sir?" he nervously blurted out.

        The taller man narrowed his black eyes.  The imp was lucky he was in a compliant mood.  He then laughed coldly.

        "Ever played chess, imp?

        He nodded.

        "Think of it as a big game of chess. They are the pawns. Weak and pathetic, but they win us the game in the end. We are the kings. Powerful and strong. The pawns die for the king. This is no different." He finished with grin and a fire in his coal black eyes.

        "Leave now, imp. Bring the others to watch the game while I change my cloak. People are so messy when they die."  He turned swiftly on heel and strode from the room, leaving the small man shaking.